Tears
by genocideray
Summary: Pairing: Aoshi/Misao. Aoshi remembers the past. Takes place after the end of the manga series, slightly experimental writing. Includes an extra, 心の約束. RuroKen, its characters and all intellectual property rights belong to Watsuki-sensei.


**Tears**

Kaoru was apologetic; there were not enough rooms in the Kamiya Dojo for them to sleep in separately, now that they were housing so many people for the wedding. Misao, however, shrugged it off lightly.

When Kaoru finally left, Aoshi said, "I'll sleep outside."

Misao, in the midst of unfurling the futons, shot him one of those dagger glares that she dealt out to everyone frequently, but to him, rarely. "I said it was fine. Anyway, Aoshi-sama, we've been sleeping outdoors together for the past four days we've travelled here."

"…That's different."

She sighed,"I don't see how. Besides, I've slept in your room before."

A pause, then, "….That was ten years ago."

"Does it make a difference?" Misao yawned, as she flopped onto her futon, placed an appropriate distance from his, still in her _shinobi_ outfit. "Goodnight, Aoshi-sama."

She was out like a lightbulb in a few seconds. Aoshi glanced at her sleeping face, and answered in his heart_...it makes a whole world of difference, Misao. _His green eyes gently traced a path from the proud brow to the delicate mouth, now slightly lax in sleep. Kenshin's voice resounded in his head. _Misao-dono is no longer a child.—You treasure Misao-dono very much, do you not?_

Caught in the rhythm of her silken breaths, Aoshi closed his eyes cast his mind back to the first time they'd met. He'd been a thirteen year old boy, quieter, graver and more dangerous than the rest of the Oniwabanshû children. He'd known too much pain in his life to laugh with the free abandon they did. They'd avoided him, of course, not that they meant to hurt him. They were afraid of the boy who fought more viciously than most of the full-fledged Oniwabanshû members. He heard the whispers; children can be so unintentionally and unknowingly cruel... _He's a monster; he'll kill you if he gets angry with you; don't look into his eyes, or you be murdered in the night._ So he'd retreated further into his shell, locked his heart away, and trained harder in his_ kodachi _methods with the other four outcasts who he had found and trained. He willed himself to become colder, colder, till the rejection of the 'other children' didn't matter anymore, till all that he could hear was Okina's "well done" and "try harder". And then—a three-year-old bundle of mischief arrived, the Okashira's granddaughter, illegitimate but well-loved.

The first thing she ever did to him was to cover him in coloured streamers that she spent an afternoon making. He had been resting on his log after sparring with Okina and the next thing he knew, he was looking out into the world through fronds of pink, orange and yellow strips of paper, and a cheerful face was looking up at him.

"Misao!" Okina exclaimed loudly. "You musn't do that. Don't bother Aoshi-nii-san." Either his voice was too loud and sudden, or Misao thought she was going to get scolded, but she burst into tears at once. The blue eyes, clouded with tears, set off a reaction in Aoshi, who as a child, had cried and cried for nights, but no one had comforted him. Aoshi quickly tore off a piece of pink streamer paper from his new headdress and deftly shaped it into a crane, which he held out to her. Misao's eyes widened with glee, and dried up at once. She picked up the crane and ran off towards the Aoiya, burbling happily, holding out the pink crane to show to everyone. Okina's eyes were narrowed, but there was a slight smile on his face.

"That was unusual for you. Why did you do that?"

"I don't like seeing people cry," the boy said shortly, as he stood up again, twin _kodachi_ at ready. "Shall we get back to practice?"

Later, this statement had turned into "I don't like seeing Misao cry", and whenever she started bawling because of a scraped knee, a scolding, or dropped candy, he would be there, ready to stop her tears. The easiest way to stop her crying was to be there for her, and before long, she started calling him "Aoshi-sama". And even as he built his walls against other people higher and higher, when it came to Misao… all she needed to do was to chirp out "Aoshi-sama—", or show the slightest hint of tears and it would all come crashing down.

Three years later, at the end of the Bakumatsu, when he left without saying a word to her, it was because he knew if she started crying, he wouldn't be able to keep his promise to the four outcasts, that he would find a place for them. He knew if he had told her he was going, her tears would have made him stay. He didn't want to face that, didn't want to think that what he would do would have made her cry, so he left in secret. He locked her smile in his heart, never to be forgotten, but never to be seen again; frozen, with the rest of his hurt and fear. He swore to become stronger.

And that heart was locked for ten long years, never the least threatened by any outside influence, till that time he had fought Okina to the death to find Himura Battōsai. The walls began to crack when he heard her breath at the door, felt her presence before he turned. It was enough to distract him, so that Okina's wounds, which should have been fatal, weren't. He had turned, saw the shock in those blue eyes that had grown brighter, keener, more adult; saw the woman the girl had turned into, and the girl he loved within the woman; saw that any moment now, she would burst into tears…. He had left, back to her, and told her to keep out of his sight. That he never wanted to see her face again. Because, deep in the recesses of his soul, he knew if he saw her face again, it would be covered in tears, and the frozen walls he had built, the lock over his heart, and the madness he needed to defeat Battōsai would break utterly.

And true enough, that_ had _been the thing to break his madness, the bright and painful light that had pierced the darkness he'd surrounded himself in, that stopped him from going to a point of no return. The words Battōsai had thrown at him about turning his four companions into evil spirits had hurt him, it was true, had chipped away at the lock over his heart; but the thing that shattered his insanity, his rage, was: _Do you know she wept when I promised her to bring you back? …__**You're the only one who can provide an answer to those honest tears**_.

And as the lock shattered utterly in his heart, he finally realised, even if he didn't see her cry, even if he couldn't see her cry, if she was crying, he was lying to himself, and had been lying to himself all these years. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Misao cry. Because, if she was crying, then—_ he didn't want Misao to cry_—he would, at all costs, stop those tears.

_I don't know what I ever did to deserve you…I don'__t know which god decided that you'd love me…but I owe you everything._ He felt tears prick his eyes. _Tears? I haven't cried for years...why now?_

"Aoshi-sama. You'll catch cold." He heard her gentle whisper over his head, but he didn't move, didn't turn his head, for fear that she would see the wetness glimmering on his cheek. He heard her sigh, and then a warm blanket enveloped him. He caught her hand after it deposited the blanket, turning his head to look at her. She froze, cheeks dyed with crimson blush.

"Aoshi-sama?" she asked, uncertainly, raising her free hand to his damp cheek. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Misao."

The worry in her eyes gave him enough courage to do what he'd wanted to do since she'd ran to him after his fight with Shishio Makoto—A quick jerk forward, her blue eyes widened, hand encircling her waist, and their lips met. And in his heart, Aoshi said, _thank you for saving me._

* * *

EXTRA:

心の約束  
(kokoro no yakusoku)

He's made one promise in his heart, to her. "I'll never make you cry again."

She's made one promise in her heart, to him. "I'll never let you fall again."

They'll never tell each other this promise out loud, but even without that, they'll always know what the other promised. And they know the other will never breach their promise, just like they would never breach their own.

Because it's the same promise.

The promise of their hearts.

The promise of _love._


End file.
